Three Years
Three years ago. . .
I slept in and skipped a workout.
I listened to the then 3 year old niece tell me “I think I have a little poop in there, and when it wants to come out, it says, ‘Hey! Let me out of here!'” (Sorry K, A, and A, but that was the second best part of the whole day.)
I had someone else deal with my hair, makeup, and nails and wished that could be a regular occurrence.
I shared a top hat with a pig.
I ate the only cake I’ve ever really liked.
I paired a White Sox scarf with a fancy dress and pulled it off.
I hung out in the hallway in said fancy dress while someone who shall remain nameless ran down to the front desk to replace the key he left lying on the table in the room.
I stole a new last name.
Happy anniversary, Husband!
Soybeans, Too 